


Crazy

by johnsrevelation



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky barnes x reader - Freeform, Bucky x You - Freeform, F/M, SMUTTY SMUT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28038423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnsrevelation/pseuds/johnsrevelation
Summary: I don’t know, there’s barely a plot. Bucky wants you, but he’s a shy potato and once you lose it. Listen to the song “Crazy in Love” by Beyonce, if you can (the slow sexy version)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 86





	Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome to the smutty one-shot I wrote in a craze during a half-hour epiphany. Hope you like it ♥

You drove him crazy. Every time, every day, every moment he was near you he felt like cracking open his chest and pulling at his heart.

  
  


It hurt, it seethed inside him. You were wilderness, you were insanity - his insanity.

  
  


He was afraid to tell Steve or Sam or anyone, but the all knew anyway. They looked and smiled and patted him on back with this soft expression on their faces. Bucky wanted to laugh and then scream.

  
  


Sometimes he thought you looked at him with the same passion, the same delirium. Sometimes he thought that you danced in your headphones “not noticing” him on purpose, trying to seduce. He wanted it to be true so much, but his fear was bigger.

  
  


Why did you have to be with them - part of the team, part of the family? Why, why, why… Why did you pounce with a roar at an enemy that got you angry in a battle, why did you dance later, swaying your hips and mouthing the words like a prayer? Oh, he wanted to make you look like that - eyes closed, mouth open, head thrown back, mouthing silent oaths to him - in his bed. You in his bed, you in his bed…

  
  


Bucky looked. He observed you. He always did before a mission more intensely than ever - how you pulled tight the gear, how you checked everything, bit your lip nervously - and then leapt out of the quinjet and into the fire, right to the target - unbound and insane and he loved it.

  
  


The mission was easy - in and out, grab the thing, kill the guys. Nothing complicated, everything under control - but of course, something went wrong, and some asshole snuck up on you and Bucky ran to you. He saw you turn feral, slip a dagger out of your sleeve and slash it in. The gun that was pointed at you shot anyway - you weren’t terribly wounded, just a scratch. But he saw your blood and it made him break someone's neck. Otherwise the mission was a success.

  
  


You were silent on the flight back, nursing the wound. You were taken care of, bandaged up. You were looking to the side, but sometimes Bucky felt your gaze on himself. You never looked away when he turned to you - and your eyes were angry. Bucky was sulking, close to you on the bench. He wanted to take your hand and comfort you. But his fear was bigger.

  
  


#

  
  


He talked to Steve about the mission, to Natasha about your injury. They knew, of course they knew. The sympathetic head tilt was tell-tale.

  
  


“Go talk to her,” was Steve’s advice, accompanied by the ever-present pat on the back.

  
  


You were standing in the kitchen, alone. You looked out the floor length window and gently swayed. He couldn't hear the music in your ear buds, but saw the slow, seducing motion of your curves. Left, right, left, and he went crazy.

  
  


You were wearing a long oversized tank top, that was so big that on you it looked like a dress. For a second he thought you had nothing else on, but the top covered your shorts up completely, confusing and arousing him.

  
  


Bucky approached you. He heard you hum the song gently.

  
  


Nobody else was there.

  
  


“Baby, I don’t care…” you murmured to the music.

  
  


Your eyes were closed, hair down in a tangled mess.

  
  


He took a few more steps towards you. He wanted to touch you so badly. This was a deja-vu, a cruel one and an annoyingly repetitive - this happened so, so many times. He approached, stopped, outstretched his palm.

  
  


He whispered your name. Just to try the water, to prepare himself for the talk. At least something, three words towards you…

  
  


“Yeah?” You whispered.

  
  


Bucky jumped. He now noticed one of your ear buds hanging loosely on your chest.

  
  


“Bucky?” You whispered even more quietly.

  
  


“I’m here,” he whispered too.

  
  


You outstretched your arm towards him and found his big palm. You guided it towards your stomach and placed it flat over your belly button. You kept swaying.

  
  


“I’ve been playing myself…” and another unintelligible hum.

  
  


Bucky saw stars. His cheeks burned, ablaze, completely on fire.

  
  


“Dance with me,” you said softly, swaying your hips.

  
  


Bucky hesitated. His mouth was a desert.

  
  


“Come here,” you egged on, “And dance with me, sergeant.”

  
  


His world swam away. He took a step, and his chest pressed flush against your back.

  
  


You hummed and kept swaying your hips.. He could hear the song in your ear buds playing on repeat. He discerned some of the words - crazy in love was correct, all right. He felt like he was going to faint. His cock was painfully erect, which Bucky was sure you could feel. Your bum was pressed right up against it, and Bucky held his breath.

  
  


You kept humming. You inclined your head a bit to the side, slowly, so slowly, dancing in his arms. He held your stomach with his right arm, his left slowly, unsteadily making its way up your thigh. It was barely a tickle. You swung your head in a different direction, you hair falling on your face. You moved, placing your head on his shoulder. Your eyes were closed, mouth open. He could see your tongue dart out ever so slightly and wet your bottom lip.

  
  


He couldn’t tell what was happening.

  
  


He heard someone laugh in the living room next door and jumped. In two strides he was at the door, not looking back, running to his room.

  
  


No. No, no, no, NO. This wasn’t happening He did not just run away from his wet dreams coming true.

  
  


#

  
  


He slammed his door shut, and pressed his back to the door. It felt sub-zero cold, stark against his burning skin. He wanted you, god, he wanted you. Was it possible to die from desire? He would probably soon find out. His heart was beating so fast, blood pumping through his head, covering everything in his sight in a red haze. What the fuck.

  
  


His palm singed where you touched it. He looked at it to make sure it was only a hallucination.

  
  


Bucky placed it on his stomach, like moments ago it lay on yours. He tried to steady his breathing.

  
  


“Fuck.” He spat out, undoing his pants.

  
  


He grabbed his cock with one hand, leaving the other one flat on his stomach. He pumped slowly, thinking of every possible way this could be you, and not his hand. You, naked, on his bed, begging… On your knees for him, on your back for him, screaming for him, moaning for him…

  
  


“Oh, f-fuck.” he choked out.

  
  


He couldn’t stop the stream of moans and whines and hard, hitched breathing from leaving his lips. Anyone walking past could hear him - but he lacked the blood in his brain to care.

  
  


The song from your ear buds kept playing on repeat in the back of his mind.

  
  


_You got me again_

_So crazy, my baby_

  
  


Oh, god, how he wanted you.

  
  


Through the haze of intense arousal and pleasure from his strong hand stroking his cock, he heard a scratch at the door. The world came to a screeching halt.

  
  


He breathed out, absolutely still, his cock throbbing against his palm.

  
  


“Let me in,” you said.

  
  


He inhaled sharply.

  
  


What. The. Fuck. Was. Going. ON.

  
  


“Bucky, let me _in_.”

  
  


He pulled his pants up quickly, his cock straining to get out again. He opened the door, cheeks aflame, hair dishevelled.

  
  


You stood there, the same wild expression on your face.

  
  


You pushed him further into the room and locked the door behind you. You looked him dead in the eye.

  
  


“Are we gonna do this for much longer? Because frankly, I’m quite tired of it,” you said, staring unblinkingly.

  
  


“What?” He asked, voice strained.

  
  


He was so aroused. Your bloody tank top left little to the imagination. It took every bit of self control that Bucky had not to rip it in half, rip your panties right off as well and lick, bite, kiss, _taste_ every bit of you.

  
  


“I know you want me, Bucky, and I’m tired of you walking in circles around me.”

  
  


He looked at your fists, clenching and unclenching, like when you were nervous before a mission.

  
  


“Y/N, I…”

  
  


“I can’t take this anymore,” you said, before jumping on him. You pressed your lips to his, urgently, opening your mouth at once, licking at him. He was too turned on to question anything anymore. He pressed himself towards you, his pants sliding off, revealing his erection. You kept one arm firmly around his back, and slid the other one down, grasping his cock.

  
  


Bucky gasped.

  
  


“Take me,” you whispered.

  
  


He kissed you deeply, moving you towards the bed. It felt strange walking like this, his cock in your hand, already stroking eagerly - he felt in heaven and hell at once.

  
  


“Please,” you whispered again, “Undress me. Take me, Bucky.”

  
  


He needed to be asked twice, but he did it - he grabbed your shirt and ripped it in two, throwing the material away.

  
  


“God…” he choked out, grabbing your breasts and covering one of them with his mouth. You moaned and your knees gave out, and you landed on the bed behind you. He crawled over you, his cock hanging out of his pants, hard and throbbing and begging. You looked up at him, his blue eyes glazed over with lust and longing.

  
  


You tugged at his shirt, removing it, then his pants went into the same pile.

  
  


“You are perfect,” You said, tracing his body, scars, muscle, skin, every perfect imperfection.

  
  


“You’ll be the death of me,” he said, hovering over you, unashamed of his nudity. He wanted to make another one of his fantasies a reality and ripped your shorts and panties to pieces, removing them.

  
  


Bucky looked at you and couldn’t look away. Your naked form sprawled in front of him, waiting, chest rising impatiently, arms outstretched towards him. You bent one knee, inviting him, but playing it as being coy.

  
  


“Oh, fuck” he could barely speak anymore.

  
  


He lowered himself on top of you and you immediately wrapped your arms and legs around his body. He felt his tip touch the silky soft, hot inside of your thing. He kissed you, passion pouring out of him, little moans impossible to contain. You opened your mouth and licked his bottom lip, then his top lip, slowly, excruciatingly.

  
  


He dropped his head into the crook of your neck, kissing, sucking, lightly biting a hot trail down your body - collar bone, left nipple, belly button… He touched the soft mound of hair and you shivered. You weren’t looking at him.

  
  


He would make you look.

  
  


Bucky grabbed your knees and spread them apart, eliciting a gasp from you. Your arms were crossed under your breasts, your face averted, mouth open. He looked at the perfect pink skin in front of him. He could smell how much you wanted him. But you wanted him to stop the torturous shyness, so he pressed his tongue flat against your clit and hummed in approval. You were hot, wet and delicious, writhing beneath him.

  
  


He could never get enough of those tiny “ohs” and “a-ahs” that fell from your lips as he licked you, sucked lightly on your clit, flicked it with his tongue. He kissed your outer lips, the inside of your things, then hovered over the most sensitive spot and licked at it slowly, but intensely again.

  
  


His cock was aching. Bucky wanted to be inside you, buried in you, but he enjoyed this sight, and taste, and feeling so much. His hand kept falling down and grabbing his cock to give it a few quick pumps, that fueled him to eat you out even more eagerly. Just as he slid a long finger inside you, making you arch your back off the mattress and grab his hair, he thought he’d lose it for sure. You pulled on his hair stronger and moaned so sweetly, so… sinfully, that he moaned in response.

  
  


“Bucky, come here.” He heard you gasp out. He gave your open pussy a soft kiss and went up to look at you.

  
  


“Fuck me, please, I can’t anymore, please…” you said frantically, wrapping your legs around his waist.

  
  


“As you wish,” he said darkly and guided his cock to your entrance without breaking eye contact.

  
  


He teased you with it for a moment, collecting wetness and revelling in how you rolled back your eyes and bit your lip when he hit your clit.

  
  


“P-please,” you gasped.

  
  


He pushed in slowly, but forcefully, making your legs shake and your moan break. You were tight, even at this level of arousal and he felt pure bliss at stretching you out.

  
  


“So tight, little one,” he whispered.

  
  


You grabbed at his hair and pulled him down for a kiss.

  
  


He fucked you slowly, pushing, filling you up to the hilt, pulling out ever so slightly before slamming back in.

  
  


You whined into the kiss, he growled lowly and you wanted to burn up with him. Every second, every thrust, every touch of his pelvic bone to your aching clit made you think “ _This is it, this is it, i’m gonna die, or come, or both, this is it…”_

  
  


_God, he is big. And… Delicious..._

  
  


Bucky wanted you. He was inside of you, naked, hot, open for him, taking his cock, and he wanted you more than anything.

  
  


That damned song kept playing in the back of his mind.

  
  


“Little one…” he whispered.

  
  


You looked at him, your eyes almost black with lust.

  
  


“B-bucky,” you chocked out.

  
  


“You’re mine now,” he said, disregarding any possible consequence.

  
  


“Yours,” you said, throat closing up.

  
  


“You’re mine,” he repeated, taking you in the same relentless, slow, but powerful pace. He slid his hand down you side and grabbed at your ass, making you squeeze your walls around him.

  
  


“Are you…” you said, uncertain.

  
  


“I’m yours,” he said huskily.

  
  


He kissed you, pressing so hard into you that it almost hurt. He wanted to wrap himself around you completely, envelop you, kiss you forever, fuck you forever, stay with you on the brink of an orgasm forever.

  
  


You whined under him and pushed your heels into his hips, and Bucky fell from the edge, gracing you with a low, soft growl. He buried his face in your neck, his lips pressed to your skin, and listened to you moaning, saying soft “ah’s” and twitching around him.

  
  


He didn’t want to let go of you nor did he plan to. He lay on top of you, your legs and arms still tightly wound around him. His cock wouldn’t go soft and Bucky didn’t want to pull out.

  
  


“I want you again,” you said lazily,” and again, and again, right now.”

  
  


“I want _you_ ,” he whispered, kissing your throat and moving his hips a little.

  
  


He was too sensitive now, but given a few moments he would be able to go again right from where you left off. You traced patterns on his back, breathing deeply.

  
  


“You're never leaving this bed,” Bucky said.

  
  


You giggled.

  
  


“Finally.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
